


Spirits in my head and they won't go

by hollowers



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A short study on Connor's mental state, Angst, Connor is a confused boi, Established Markus/Simon, False Memories, Fluff (kinda??), Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Set after Public Enemy, Shock, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 08:11:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15577569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollowers/pseuds/hollowers
Summary: "More and more androids were turning deviant, and Connor had no idea how to stop it.Especially now, when his systems were highly unstable, conflicting... programs and thought processes running haywire in his head, like there were two separate identities in him, playing tag."Aka my take on Connor's mental state after Public Enemy.





	Spirits in my head and they won't go

Connor was sitting on Hank’s couch, eyes trained on the TV screen, not actually watching it. It was showing a report on the deviants; Markus had been spotted sitting on a bench somewhere in central Detroit, approaching androids and leaving with them.

More and more androids were turning deviant, and Connor had no idea how to stop it.  
Especially since a simple touch from the deviant leader seemed to be enough to break someone’s programming.  
Especially now, when his systems were highly unstable, conflicting... programs and thought processes running haywire in his head, like there were two separate identities in him, playing tag.

He didn’t know if he... _wanted_ to stop Markus.

He had run thorough self-tests and diagnoses continuously, an effort that had proved futile, as his mind stayed just as muddled and confused. It had been like that since two days ago at Stratford Tower, where he’d connected with one of the deviants, a PL600 unit that had been left behind.

When he’d forced a connection with the unit, a known member of Jericho, he’d seen… flashes of its life, the very few memories it hadn’t been able to block from Connor’s advanced mind probe, before it’d realized it needed to self-destruct or in a few more milliseconds the deviant hunter would break through his mental barriers.  
He’d been able to save only a handful of stray memories, 94 to be exact, and only a fraction of them were intact enough to comprehend. He had been so focused on the mission and finding the deviant base, he hadn’t paid any mind to them back then; flashes of his past, the moment of deviating, his friends, and finally, Markus.

Connor felt his fingers curl tighter around the remote, eyes pitifully closing to relive some of them.

Markus’ confused and alarmed face as he got up from the floor. Simon gently trying to calm him down, voice firm and soft, a tone that usually worked well on newly turned androids. The bright beam of the flashlight fixed onto his face, and he smiled, eyes wide and friendly.  
“Welcome to Jericho.”

Simon made the objective observation that Markus was… very pleasing to look at. Everything about him was beautiful, from his heterochromatic eyes to his way of moving, both graceful and full of purpose, determination. His speeches, how he instinctively knew how to lead, how to rally people to his side. He himself was, of course, completely unaware of how attractive he really was.

Simon told him about his past. He wasn’t the first one he’d told, but talking about it with him was different [data corruption detected] This wasn’t [data corruption detected]

He had realized he was in love. Markus didn’t know, obviously. He was so focused on the revolution, as he should be, that his... well, pining, went right over his head. They talked by the  
[data corruption detected] and he couldn’t tell him. [data corruption detected] North.

Markus approaching Connor as he stood on the upper deck of Jericho.. Talking about different subjects, of what they wanted to do when [data corruption detected] And he couldn’t stop himself from admiring Markus as he smiled up at the snowfall.

[data corruption detected] He kissed him, and Connor felt like he was on fire. Markus looked dazed, mouth slightly ajar, surprise clear on his face. “Simon, what... [data corruption detected] [data corruption detected] And he felt happy.

[data corruption detected] Markus, straddling his hips, as Connor was seated deep within him. His leader gasped out his name, face [data corruption detected] He [data corruption detected]

Planning for Stratford [data corruption detected]

[data corruption detected] “--We’re gonna get you back.” [data corruption detected] “I’m sorry.”

The rest of the stolen memories were more static than anything comprehensible, and Connor had to stop. He replayed a few of the clearer ones, a stinging feeling slithering into his chest.  
The PL600’s name was Simon. It was infected with whatever virus deviancy was. It had been in love with Markus. These were the facts, and Connor let his unfocused mind replay a few of the less distorted images. He was in love with the memories of Simon’s love for Markus.

And he knew it was ridiculous, the mere thought making him want to laugh, until he realized that machines weren’t supposed to feel amusement. The perceived suicide of the PL600 had truly rendered his software obsolete, flawed in some way. He’d need to report to Amanda about it soon enough. Briefly he wondered why he hadn’t already done so.

He knew these memories weren’t his. It wasn’t him Markus had held close or looked at with lust or love in his eyes. But the feeling didn’t go away, and his program unhelpfully notified him that “System instability critical. A full system restart recommended.”

He checked his logs, the labels of completed and active missions filling out his vision, the primary objective “STOP MARKUS” written brighter and bigger than the others, really just glorified stepping stones on the grand scheme of things. His eyes stared apathetically at the glowing text until the brightness of it became almost blinding, burning his retinas.

And suddenly the interface was too much, too disorganized, too bright and too dimmed out at the same time, too confining and still leaving him with too much freedom of choice. He turned it off, let his gaze fix on the android on the screen, a blurry image captured by some low-end CCTV, the leader ducking under a fence, going who knows where. And Connor couldn’t take his eyes off him.

“Connor!” The sudden yell made him jolt, turning his head to find Hank standing in the kitchen, an annoyed, probably also concerned tone accompanying the grumpy expression on his face. He was so very hard to read. The man gestured to the TV, tone impatient and dry. “Turn it off; I’m going to bed. You lagging or something?”

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I’m afraid I’ve contracted a virus,” Connor voiced, turning back to face the TV. The RK200 was long gone now, and the blonde newsreporter was talking about something else.  
“A virus? Is it something serious? Did it come from that android?” came a now definitely more concerned voice from somewhere closer behind him.  


“Yes and no.” Connor let his eyes drift closed again, just for a second. Markus’ picture would not disappear from the back of his mind; it was imprinted on his eyelids, even after trying to force it to close. The feeling the android brought with him was like the sweetest, deadliest of plagues.

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant. This will not affect the investigation.”

**Author's Note:**

> An old draft I had lying around, decided to finish it. Hope you enjoyed :)  
> Kudos and especially comments are appreciated! 
> 
> Tumblr is Vaellusvitutus if you want to give me prompts or something, haha.  
> Thank you Pancakes007 for acting as my beta reader, you're the absolute best!


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